


Crows

by JaderTroes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaderTroes/pseuds/JaderTroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off the song "Crows 1".<br/>Jean undergoes trial and error with his new found relationship, but as something tragic happens his world flips upside-down and soon finds himself in a mess he can't fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crows

**Author's Note:**

> If my writing get's really bad, just smack me upside the head.  
> First shot writing SNK.

Tomorrow, he said. Tomorrow, he promised. Tomorrow had turned into today, and today was the first day Jean waited fifteen minutes too long to actually believe that he had kept his word of showing up. The streets were busy as the car smog filled the air. Jean shifted in his seat. His coffee, half milk and sugar, was as cold as the wind that braised his reddened cheeks.

He pulled his scarf up around his cracking lips.

Wherever he could be was not worth Jean's time. Contemplating on splitting, he saw the familiar gangly figure in the street crowd. The short stature of the brown haired boy was unnoticeable until he staggered out from the parade of business men. Jean drew in a long breath, hands shaking for what he knew he felt was not foreign.

The boy headed towards Jean's table. He grabbed the opposite chair from Jean and took an obnoxiously long time to get seated comfortably. Jean rolled a quick glance at the boy as he fidgeted around with the cuffs of his sleeves. The boy's clothes were covered in stains and several holes, a contrast against Jean's clean, pressed shirt and slacks.

“What took so long?” Jean swirled a spoon once, then twice in his cup of ice cold coffee.

The boy took the cup of coffee from Jean and took a sip or two from it, “been working longer hours, unlike your pampered-self, don't get as many breaks as I'd like to have.”

Jean shifted left slightly watching the dirt crusted nails lightly touch the white, gold-trimmed coffee cup, “is this going to be a waste of my time or are you going to give me what I came here for.”

“Hold your horses, I can do what you need if you have your end of the bargain.”

Jean lowered his right hand, stuffing it into his pocket to feel the enclosed envelope that held a very meager amount of money to Jean, but to the boy it was more than he could earn in two weeks. He pulled out the envelope and flicked it onto the table. Crossing his arms, Jean eyed the boy once again as he fumbled to jam the paper into his hole-lined coat pocket. “Yeah come on.” He gestured for them to leave as quick as possible. Jean followed him into a back alley way. Shoved against a wall, Jean could feel the boy's breath on his neck as a hand fumbled at the hem of Jean's pants. With a rough tug, his pants fell around his thighs as the boy sunk to his knees. Jean looked up at the sky, not being able to bare to see the boy's ever softening face's cheeks redden as he takes him whole.

A murder of crows sat perched on top of the tall building. 

They've been watching Jean for a long time now as if they remember who he is... Jean has always been cautious of the black birds despite his beliefs. As a child Jean was told crows would only bring misfortune to those who they loom over from above, but Jean never was a superstitious kind of person.

Jean felt the pulsing of his hot member fill the mouth of the green eyed boy below him. A low, responsive gargling-like hum of appreciation was all that Jean could manage to let slip past his lips as the boy wiped the corner of his mouth off with the backs of his skeletal-like hands. Jean fastened his pants back around his waist as the boy stood up, dusting the dirt from his knees.

Jean soon felt guilty doing this with his lost friend, if you could even call the pair friends. Everything seemed so right to Jean in the moment but wrong afterward, and when the boy smiled his heart fluttered to the beat of a drum marching forward, forgetting every past moment that might have ever given Jean any doubt this boy was- knowingly or not- giving himself to Jean to be claimed. 

This boy could never be his to have because Jean had Marco. Jean had always had Marco, but when Jean brushed a loose strand of hair from his bangs and neatly tucked it behind his ear, or kissed his fragile lips at night in the park while practically chanting banters of chivalry to his unearthly vagabond, was this not a way of claiming this boy?

Jean cleared his throat as the boy rummaged through his pockets, revealing a small piece of hard candy he popped into his mouth quickly. Eying up and down the boy again, Jean felt like a fool because he really believed that such a boy harlot could ever want him in return the same way Jean would like to have him.

“I need to get back to work, boss is going to be upset if I'm late again.”

Jean nodded as the boy slowly gritted at his bottom lip, “ Will I see you tomorrow?” 

The boy shrugged as he rocked on his heels, back and forth, “Can we make it tomorrow night because this is becoming habitual Jean. My boss is getting' upset with my afternoon rendezvous.” 

It was true, Jean had been meeting in secrecy with his almost-personal call boy for about two weeks now. “Alright, tomorrow night. Same place?”

“Yeah, same place.” And with that the boy was gone. 

Jean almost felt alone in the damp, dark alley if only it wasn't for the damn looming murder of crows.


End file.
